


The Gala

by Kgraces



Series: Little Wing and Baby Bird [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Batbrothers (DCU) Bonding, Batfamily (DCU), Gen, Kid Dick Grayson, Kid Tim Drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kgraces/pseuds/Kgraces
Summary: Tim and Dick met twice before Tim joined the family: once at the circus and once at a gala.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Little Wing and Baby Bird [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950859
Comments: 34
Kudos: 442





	The Gala

The Christmas gala was in full swing, and six-year-old Tim Drake was on a mission. He wouldn’t let himself get distracted by the pretty lights or shiny baubles decorating the walls of Wayne Manor’s ballroom. His parents were somewhere lost among the swirl of the crowd, but Tim’s focus was drawn to the teenager lingering by the glass door leading to the balcony. He weaved among the partygoers, unnoticed due to his tiny stature, until he was shuffling his feet nervously, close enough to reach out and tug at Dick Grayson’s sleeve. 

The teenager turned to Tim with a smile — his charming, socialite smile he used most frequently among Gotham’s elite, but there was a flicker of surprise that flitted across his features at the sight of the small boy, clutching a neatly wrapped present in his hands. It was quickly suppressed for a warmer expression. 

“Hey there,” Dick said, tone as friendly as Tim remembered. “Is everything okay?” At Tim’s nod, Dick’s smile grew more genuine. “Are you enjoying the party?” Tim smiled shyly and shrugged. He hesitated for a moment before offering up the gift.

“Hi, I’m Tim. This is for you,” the boy said. Dick raised a brow but took the present.

“For me?” He asked, wide-eyed. Tim nodded, feeling himself flush under the scrutiny. “C’mon,” Dick said, reaching for Tim’s hand. “Let’s go find somewhere to sit, and you can help me open this. How’s that sound?” The kid lit up at that, and Dick let out a fond chuckle. “Alright kiddo, I bet Alfred will make us some hot cocoa if we head to the kitchen.” 

Tim’s tiny fingers curled around Dick’s, and he was led through the winding halls of the Manor to the spacious kitchen, where an elderly butler bustled around. Tim thought he looked far too busy to be distracted by making them hot cocoa, but Dick, still tugging him along by the hand, bounded up to him with a grin. 

“Hi Alfred, you know what would be the perfect, kid-friendly drink for a cold winter’s night such as this?” The old butler turned and met Dick with a raised brow and a half-exasperated, half-indulgent expression. Dick was unfazed. “We’re surrounded by boring adults drinking champagne, and I think we’re in need of something non-alcoholic and delicious.”

“I suspect two mugs of hot chocolate would suffice?” 

“Perfect!” Dick crowed. “Thank you Alfred. You’re the best!” He dragged Tim over to the breakfast nook tucked in the corner of the kitchen. 

“Does our young guest have any preferences?” Alfred asked, turning his attention to Tim. 

“Um...Do you have any marshmallows?” He replied in a small voice. Alfred smiled gently and nodded. He set off to start on their drinks, and Dick wrapped an arm around Tim’s narrow shoulders. His free hand started idly picking at the edges of the wrapping paper on Tim’s gift. “It’s not much,” Tim said, nodding at the present, “but I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” Dick ruffled the kid’s hair and tore open the brightly colored paper to reveal a framed photo. Dick’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the smiling faces of John and Mary Grayson. He only vaguely recognized the couple standing with them, but in the center of the picture, Dick himself was beaming at the camera, a little toddler cuddled into his lap. Judging by the dark mop of hair and the wide, pale blue eyes, Dick was looking at a younger version of the kid currently nestled against his side. 

“You promised to do your quadruple somersault for me,” Tim explained, watching Dick’s face carefully to determine his reaction. “And you gave me my first ever hug that day! You were so nice to me, and I wanted to do something nice for you.” 

“That was you?” Dick asked, bewildered. “Look at you! You were so  _ tiny! _ ” He glanced over at Tim. “I mean, you’re still pretty tiny,” he said, poking him in the ribs. Tim stifled a giggle and squirmed out of reach. Internally, Dick’s thoughts were a whirlwind.  _ First hug? _ He pulled Tim closer with the arm he’d slung around the kid’s bony shoulders, dragging him into what he was sure was a sorely needed show of affection. Tim curled into the hold, smiling up at him with a hopeful expression. Dick felt his heart break a little for him. 

“I didn’t know if you had many pictures of your parents, but even if you did, I thought you might like to have another,” Tim said, voice muffled from where he’d buried his face into Dick’s shirt. “I would’ve gotten it to you sooner, but this is the first time my parents have let me come to one of the galas here, and I didn’t want to come uninvited any other time, so I had to wait.” 

“Timmy,” Dick breathed, still fixated on his parents’ faces, “this is perfect.  _ Thank you _ .” Tim smiled up at him, lighting up at Dick’s reaction to the gift. Alfred moved to set two mugs down onto the table in front of the boys, and Tim curled his little hands around the ceramic, sipping happily at the drink. It was sweet and warm and tasty enough to make his toes curl. He leaned against Dick, quiet and content, dropping off into a doze. 

Dick smiled at the kid nestled against his side, still idly sipping at his hot chocolate. Tim was still sleeping when Bruce ambled into the kitchen hours later. He raised an eyebrow at the pair of children, a silent request for an explanation. With his free hand, Dick held up the picture, and Bruce’s expression softened with a mixture of affection and sorrow. 

“What are you hiding out in here for?” Dick asked in a whisper, mindful of the sleeping boy. “I bet Brucie will be missed.” 

“The gala is over. Our guests have all gone home,” Bruce said. His assessing gaze swept over Tim’s prone form. “Or I suppose, most of them have gone home.” Dick frowned, perplexed. Why hadn’t Timmy’s parents come to get him? “Hm. I’ll have to let his parents know he’s still here.”

“Wait, everyone left? What about his parents?” At that, Bruce frowned, and Dick’s eyebrows crept up toward his hairline. “They just  _ left him here? _ ” His grip on Tim’s shoulder tightened, and that was enough for the kid to start to stir. He blinked up at Dick, eyes heavy with sleep. “Hey there,” Dick greeted him, focusing on lightening his tone, which, admittedly, wasn’t difficult with how adorable his new little friend was. “How was your nap?” Tim mumbled indistinctly and snuggled closer to him. 

“Timothy?” Bruce’s voice held an undercurrent of concern. Dick wasn’t surprised to learn that Bruce already knew the kid’s name.

“Just Tim,” the boy corrected, words slurring. 

“Well then, Tim, would you like to stay with us tonight? It’s getting late, and I think you boys should be getting to bed.” 

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Tim’s protest was quickly snuffed out by a flat look from Bruce. He pouted adorably, crossing his arms. “But my parents...” 

“I’ll give them a call,” Bruce assured him. “Why don’t you two head upstairs? Dick can lend you some pajamas.” Tim relaxed at that and nodded his assent. Dick beamed at Bruce, and before Tim could start to stand up, he swung him into his arms. 

“C’mon Timmy! Comfy clothes await!” He took off, laughing at Tim’s halfhearted protests at being carried around. He brought them both upstairs to his bedroom and set Tim down on the bed before he started to root around in his dresser for pajamas that would fit him. Dick tossed a pair of sweatpants he’d long outgrown and a well-worn hoodie at the boy’s face, cackling when they struck and landed in his lap. Dick ducked into the bathroom to give him some privacy.

As soon as he’d changed into the warm, cozy clothes, Tim was nodding off again. Dick emerged from his bathroom, having only left him for a few minutes, and let out a near-silent huff of laughter at the sight of the kid curled up on top of his comforter, dead asleep and practically drowning in his old clothes. Shaking his head, Dick tucked the tiny boy in and turned off the light.

He snagged a spare blanket from the closet and moved to the armchair in the corner of the room. He didn’t want Tim to wake up in an unfamiliar place all alone, so he figured he would stay close by. Dick curled up and made himself comfortable, thankful for his acrobatic flexibility. The chair was big, but not big enough for a normal person to sleep in. He draped the blanket over himself and cast one last look toward the tiny bundle on his bed. His gaze dropped to the framed photo he’d been holding on to all night, and he gave his parents a warm smile before he fell asleep.

By the time he woke up, early the next morning, Tim was already gone. He’d slipped silently out of the room like a little ghost, and in that hazy state between sleeping and waking, Dick wondered if he’d ever even been there at all. But the photograph sitting neatly on his bedside table told him otherwise. A note was folded underneath the frame, and Dick smoothed it out carefully, smiling at the painstakingly neat handwriting.

_ Thank you for staying. —Tim  _


End file.
